


Do you see the stars?

by RoboticHeren



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Earth C (Homestuck), Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Labor Unions, Loneliness, M/M, Mad Scientists, Multi, Not Epilogue Compliant, Politics, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21517942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoboticHeren/pseuds/RoboticHeren
Summary: The world of earth C is odd to say the least. But that can be said of anyone and anything. What really should be said is reality, on any world, is just a constant stream of shenanigans. This basically means eating a pumpkin can make a very big difference as to how the world works and a semi-adults understanding on gender.
Relationships: Calliope/Roxy Lalonde, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Jake English/Dirk Strider, John Egbert & Jade Harley, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue

A universe croaks unthinking and unfeeling to all the stars that make up its components.

It pays no heed to the rocks that drift though its body, seeing no difference between matter and empty space.

It cares not for the planet of its mother, as it does not care for familial ties nor wish to inspect a speck of its being.

Though the universe does not care it is aware, awake as always, until the end of time.

If it paid the mind, if thoughts came coherently to it, if consciousness and maybe even opinions could be born.

Then it would be logical for it to be curious of a specific rock, five million parsects above its left toe and four left from the centre of its throat, an atom in it's body.

A bustling world, populated end to end, full of emotions unfathomable. Of chaos, of order of peace of unrest of love of apathy.

If even a single interest was given towards this sprawling landscape of cylindrical structures and grand palaces or the sights of creatures cheering, chasing, applauding. If perhaps a slitted eye motioned at the correct angle it could follow the lives of these lifeforms. The stories which they held. Their actions caught in a snippet of time and an enclosed section of space.

A bartender scrubbing a final mess away, worrying about what the future may hold.

A seer lost in the monotony of her needles, daring to think to a past long ignored.

A dreamer stares at the stars hoping for answers and reprieve

A sylph gently cradling a new born, tears still clouding her eyes

A photographer filled with wimsy and regret, shooting a scene ment only for private eyes.

A witch surrounded by love and companionship, yet her loneliness never satiated

An activist loading another shipment, unable to voice any concerns

A maid flipping through her weekly report, mind converting people to numbers

A nurse hiding in her home, guilty for a preventable loss

A rogue and a muse conversing on their troubles, but many of the largest left unsaid

A rebel closing in for a selfless crime, getting away with treasures unmatched

A knight and a knight staring at a screen, serving each other everything but one maddening line

A singer standing in the rain, barred from another venue to preserve the peace

A Page and A Prince embracing for the last time, both well aware they will do this again

An outcast strolling in an unfamiliar neighbourhood, looking for acceptance

And a boy standing alone in his bedroom, as always.

All these stories are left in observable sight for the universe to see. Tales full of plot and intrigue, story's yet to be told. All entwined in the fabric of its being, all part of a developing narrative of life. If the universe was watching it could see all this and more.

But the universe does not watch. The universe does not care. The universe does not think. The universe does not feel. The universe is not fair or devious or just or corrupt or kind or cruel or anything. The universe just is.

But everything is connected, everything has its purpose and it's place.

The universe may not watch.

But you will.


	2. Of Regretting and Repeating

The world stood carelessly still as John stared upwards, endlessly breathing in the stagnant air that enveloped him. His feet were firmly fixed on the balcony, while his body leaned against the railings for support. He could levitate and relieve himself of the stressful weight, but that required some modicum of concentration and another modicum of fucks to give. Right now he was more than content to lie, the pressure giving himself some sense of normalcy. 

Star gazing and cloud spotting were two reputable hobbies he had developed over his residency in the consort kingdom. Neither applied in this situation. Everything was dark, all houses from one horizon to the other were unlit and sleeping, the stars that should blanket the sky in the familiar shapes of his friends were nothing but smears, painted on the two dimensional dome of grey canvas above him. Everything had a slight blandness to it, similar to his old home, the one he had lost a long time ago. 

The one he'll never get back... 

He looked back to the landscape casually willing the thought to the back of his head. 

It was either an early morning or a late evening; he couldn't tell which. He had woken up at both on many occasions that each truth was equally likely. He had no real sleep schedule to stick to, not since his friend engagement had plummeted off the proverbial escherladder. 

It's not that he never talks to them, though the last message he has sent was around a month ago. It was about how he didn't want to attend the family camping trip Jade was planning (she gave it a silly name to try and coax him into it (crocklishharlbert hammer gun sporkfest (heh))). That message was sent a week after the event happened; this isn't out of the ordinary. 

It's hard for him to respond to a text or call, with any sense of immediacy. Mostly, because his spastic sleep schedule makes it impossible to be awake at the correct time, and partially because he never checks his phone. He holds the item gently in his hand. It's turned off at the moment and will continue to be off for the foreseeable future. The culprit of course is his mean green serial harasser. 

It is pretty incredible he thinks that a boy who he beat up many years ago somehow found a way to bitch at him across paradox space. He used to read those messages frequently, feeling angry and tempestuous at every dumb word. Until he realised he didn't care anymore... He may or may not have hit it with a hammer during this period of not caring. It's fine though he can just alchemise a new one... again. 

He thinks to his last face to face interation a year ago, some of his friends had come over for his 19th birthday. Him and Jade had basked in the adorable glow of grubs while Dave and Karkat made him a dumb comic which was neither cool or funny but made him smile none the less. That happy memory lay peacefully in his mind, not enough to search for more interaction, but satisfying none the less. He didn't need to visit them to know how they were; happy, bright and fulfilled with their new lives, the ones he helped make possible. They were kinda like the fading stars blanketing the sky, not always visible but always shining above him. 

Oh, So it was morning. He thought to himself while stroking his thumb against the ridge of his chin, searching for any stubble he might have missed from his wake-up shave. There was wary an occasion when he was sloppy but as a young man it was his duty to check. There was not much for him to do now that he'd won, but keeping up hygiene was a must. He couldn't let himself stumble shaudily around The house with a beard. What absurdity. 

Though it was not like someone would see. 

Only him. 

The world around John was brightening, revealing the strong hues of colour encompassing his surroundings. He pushed himself away from the metal bars of his balcony, straightening upright and in the direction of the doorway. He would most likely go downstairs, make breakfast, watch his favourite movies, eat again, watch again, eat, watch and eventually call it a night. Today was set to be average and melancholy in every way, shape and form... 

...From the corner of his eye, a flash of a particular shade of pink came in to view... 

It was an odd sight to behold for sure. No species other than salamanders with their fun gentlemanly garments and glorious glubs would frequent this area, he had seen as much over the years. He leaned slightly to his right get a better view of the pedestrian. 

The figure was quite a distance away, stumbling as they crossed onto his street. It looked like Roxy but with a closer glance he could see it was. A troll? Their horns were small flecks of colour under the prevailing stripped scarf which shrouded most of their head. They were looking round for something, head turning in quick sharp movements, every single glance was shot straight towards the salamander houses which had been built up around his own. 

They looked so lost and unsure of what to do; he could somewhat relate, though he couldn't equate to the panic they seemed to feel. The sort that could motivate him. 

John quizzicaly pinched his chin. He knew this was strange but didn't know if it had anything to do with him. They were not a friend of his to the best of his knowledge. He searched his brain for anyone he had met across paradox space with a similar appearance. This yielded no results. They were an earth C resident and thereby weren't connected to him in any meaningful way. 

Why should be do something when they were probably searching for someone else? This line of reasoning was helped further by the shear rarity of the situation. Regardless he couldn't help much with their search anyway; he was utterly clueless about the layout of his neighbourhood beyond his peripheral view. Him intruding would not be helpful. They probably had their own story to tell, it was just not necessary to include him. 

His thumb caught a prickly follicle under his chin. He took this as a sign. The troll could handle whatever their goal was without him observing their every move. He didn't need to force himself into the situation. Besides, he needed to keep a healthy visage. 

Again he turned inwards, again a flash stole his resolve. 

This time It was blue, and much more flashy. He flung himself spinning around the balcony. He knew exactly who the source of the glow was. Himself. Well not the him thinking right now, the other him who was older and wiser and probably here to fix a huge fuck up in the time line. 

Sure enough there he was... 

The John stood before John looking mostly the same but maybe a little more glum. Face to face interaction was one of the oddest experiences he had ever gone through; looking at these future figures it was always hard to think of that person as himself. He was wearing his bright blue God tier, which he often avoided in favour of old outfits he alchemised to fit his size. His reasoning was It didn't matter how comfortable the magic pyjamas were, those days of sburb were far behind him. This appeared to no longer be the case. Whether this was good or bad for him he couldn't tell. 

Future John raised his arm and smiled shallower than the present one knew he should. The motion carrying more of a weight than his own, similar but rusty.They stared silently at each other breathless and still, perhaps to grasp the reality of the situation. Or maybe to relive a long dead joke. 

John: … 

(John): … 

John: ... 

(John): … 

John: so, um, hey future John? 

(John): hey past John. 

John: what are you here for? 

John: i mean i should probably know what I need to do now I guess. 

(John): oh right uh sorry, i'm not exactly here with a plan. 

(John): i just sort of zapped here because i remember this point in time really well. 

John: why? 

He points. 

John: the time i saw a weird troll walk down the street? 

John: REALLY?? 

John: does nothing more interesting happen to me??? 

(John): no, not really? 

(John): actually most of my time we spent in our house is a huge blur... 

(John): well except the time when i saw a cloud that looked exactly like liv tyler. 

(John): that was a good day… 

(John): heh. 

(John): this is really sad when I think about it… 

John: so other than remembering dumb and boring stuff. 

John: why are you here? 

(John): well i had a picnic with roxy and calliope and had to choose a meal before deciding on whether to fight Lord English or not. 

John: you mean the texts? 

(John): yeah those but rose tells us to do it and not the douchy skull boy since we're not idiots. 

(John): and she also gets really sick in that time span when i'm not doing anything… 

(John): at all... 

(John): forever… 

(John): seriously wow! how sad are we!" 

John: so have i got to find a way to make her not sick? is that why you're here?" 

(John): well... 

(John): i think you should definitely do that. 

(John): not having a heavily medicated friend would definitely be great! 

(John): though I don't know if you could help. 

(John): she said it was an extension of her powers so maybe it's inevitable. 

(John): but i mean no that's not why I'm here. 

(John): it's to do with the picnic. 

(John): you see callie was giving me these two options. 

(John): meat or candy. 

(John): and i... 

(John): kinda... 

(John): broke down over the choice… 

John: you broke down over choosing a meal? 

(John): ok, yes. 

(John): but it was a important decision. 

John: meat or candy?! 

(John): choosing whether to fight lord english! 

(John): it kinda felt like one decision was linked to the other. 

(John): like there was this sort of meaning or something behind it? 

(John): anyway i was having a mid life crisis over my picnic. 

(John): and making calliope and roxy very uncomfortable. 

(John): they tried to be nice. 

(John): then they tried not being nice. 

(John): then they panicked. 

(John): but eventually they kinda realised the pressure i was under. 

(John): and that neither was really a good meal option for me. 

(John): so roxy just voided up a pumpkin and i ate that. 

John: yeah… 

John: i wasn't going to say... 

Current John's eyes click up and down his future self's form. Both his God tier clothes and hands are caked in orange plant matter. His face flakes as he expresses his expressions expressionfully. 

(John): they didn't have any forks 

(John): heh 

(John): it was messy, kinda bland and hard to get into especially at the start but I mean it's a meal. 

The John drenched in pulp and guts raises his shoulders in a gesture of 'can't be helped'. The John who is currently not drenched in pulp and guts gives a communicative set of faces which read 'what the hell do you mean can't be helped??? roxy was able to make you a pumpkin you could have asked for a fork!!!'. John after a few seconds of judgement, decides to not think too hard about this dumb scenario. Which one? both, both is the answer. 

(John): anyway i thought about all those regrets i had while eating. 

(John): the reasons i didn't want to go in the first place. 

(John): and i realised that most of them were about how we never left the house. 

(John): and how we didn't talk to our friends at all. 

(John): and how we never did anything. 

(John): like we were waiting for something… 

(John): but i think. 

(John): i don't want another me to go through that again. 

John: wait so you don't have a plan AND you're changing the timeline? 

John: are you trying to give dave an anurism?!" 

(John): well I do have a plan. 

(John): it's right here written in rose prose. 

(John): i am going to fight the big bad. 

(John): but i wanted to make sure i have no regrets this time. 

(John): so i've got a slightly different choice i'm going to make. 

(John): whether this changes anything I don't know. 

(John): if it doesn't go well i'm really sorry for whatever i've done. 

(John): but at least i tried. 

(John): that's something right? 

John: i don't know this seems like a really bad idea... 

(John): yeah, probably. 

(John): i'm just going with my gut on this. 

(John): and right now it's filled with food that didn't exist until Roxy did the voidy thing. 

(John): maybe if there is a third option, one that wasn't on the plate, that means there are a bunch of things that could happen instead of what rose said. 

(John): i mean, i should probably do what she said, pillars of cannon and all. 

(John): this is kinda more of a loophole I found, I mean she said I needed to leave on that day. 

(John): she didn't say i couldn't do stuff before. 

(John): so i guess this is me trying to get something from so many years of nothing. 

(John): me trying to roxy. 

(John): by the way could you figure out what her thing is with callie, i still have no clue. 

(John): i mean i think they're together somehow? 

(John): but do cherubs even know how to love people in a romantic way? 

John: honestly i'm still wrapping my head around how- 

John: wait, SO MANY YEARS!? 

John: when does this happen!? 

(John): on our- 

(John): wait. 

(John): i don't want you to get paranoid. 

(John): there's plenty of time. 

(John): just don't stay in our house all day. 

(John): we've done enough moping to last a lifetime. 

John: so what do i do? i mean other than stop moping? 

John: this isn't a very clear guide. 

John: where's terezi and her blood scarf when you need her 

(John): still flying around in paradox space I think. 

(John): i'll go meet her and make a new blood scarf, if I have the time and am not dying i guess? 

(John): she'd probably love that somehow. 

(John): seeing, wait no, smelling me die. 

(John): I bet she would try to use my blood instead I mean after licking it or something. 

(John): all's fair with that freaky weirdo. 

John fails both arms around like a loosened spring to overexaggerate his disgust. He seems somewhat less anxious about his next action. He smiles slightly and John realises for a second how much it gave away. Is this what others saw when he talked about her? God he was a bad liar, even to himself apparently. 

John: ha ha ha, yes she is pretty freaky and a weirdo. 

John: i hope you find her so we can both tell her that in person. 

John: well i guess you would tell her, and by extension, i would be telling her. 

(John): i'll make sure she gets the message. 

There is a sullen lull in the conversation, an anticipation of John's next action. 

John: um well goodbye and good luck beating an annoying skull kid up i guess?" 

(John): yeah good luck too. 

(John): i hope this works. 

John doesn't lower his arm, he's gone in a blink. 

John prime gazes for a few moments, the absence pressing against him with choices and calls to action . He's always had specific objectives, take this ring, steal that dragon, punch that vriska. Go outside and do stuff was so vague and unfathomable to him. Still he wasn't one to disobey orders no matter how dumb and esoteric they were. A mission was a mission after all and the consequences are always hard to ignore. 

He begins ruminating on the possibilities laid out before him. If he wanted to stop the dissatisfaction of his better years melting away from him, he needed to do something. That much was obvious, but the most unclear aspect of the task had to be where he would go. Perhaps to one of his friends? But which one? What would they think about this? Would he be ruining their chance at happiness if he changed the timeline? What would even be the point? He didn't even feel that compelled to act on a few minor regrets on his behalf. After all it was his own choice to not leave for several years now. He needed time to himself. He needed to think about things, or not which was the usual case. He didn't want to- 

???:~they:ll come and they:ll C us~

???:~be glad when they meet us~

???:~the gods oh so joyous~

???:~a world build just for us~

In the silent breeze, a song could be heard. John peered round his peripheral vantage point to see its source. 

Oh right… the troll... 

She (he now knew for certain that was a lady) was closer now but for some reason further away? He could have sworn the scarved wanderer was on his side of the street when he last saw her. 

Still it seemed like she was singing at an audible level for him, whether that was on purpose of not he couldn't tell. 

???: ~for those who won:t live long~ 

???: ~Your worth will survive on~ 

???: ~to oldlings have patience~

???: ~just follow this cadence~

???: ~they'll come and they'll C us~ 

The song continues like that as it loops back on itself in a never ending spiral. To John it felt like a cross between a hymn and a simple lullaby, he guessed it was a earth C song by the unfamiliar lyrics. And damn was it catchy. He had a feeling, that an earworm was burrowing right into the recesses of his skull, with every second he kept listening. 

The strange lady kept on singing as she walked past his house. Her demenor more tense, or was it more relaxed? Her posture seemed to fluctuate the more he observed, as if she wasn't sure how to walk properly. It could have been awe over a celebrity spotting or social anxiety over a stranger on a balcony. The later seemed to make more sense since she was... almost, fearful of him. 

That didn't feel right. He paused for a second, thinking on what reason she'd be doing this. The world should be peaceful why would someone be scared.The troll, now walking into the distance, took with her the spiralling music. And what did it matter to him if she left, he didn't really care. His previous conjecture on relevance welled back at him with force, calling him to disregard whatever the mystery lady was saying. But something else came back to him too, the stagnant feelings of inaction and the promise of more years of it to come. 

If he was going to not mess up the timeline, doing something completely irrelevant would be the best course of action. It wouldn't effect any of his friends and thereby no one would notice. He'd tick every box without consequences. But a knawing feeling fell to the back of his mind, that this could derail everything. That the world would change the second he made this choice. Immutable damage may be done to the timeline leaving it beyond repair. 

John looks to the ground directly bellow him, a floors distance, then back to the shortening figure music still roughly audible. 

???: ~they:ll come and they:ll C us~

John: fuck it 

He vaults over the balcony.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my way of exploring earth C culture. Be prepared for a lot of misunderstandings, because most of these kids never thought to learn anything about how the planet they made functions.


End file.
